


No Sudden Movements

by WitchStuff



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Love, Post-Season/Series 02, Sexual Content, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:32:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchStuff/pseuds/WitchStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> It’s a strange sort of quiet, not quite right. There’s tension between them, something that slipped in with the realization about the sharing of the bed. They’ve had sex, seen each other naked, they should be over this, but they’re not.</i><br/>There are still some things that need figuring out between Rae and Finn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Sudden Movements

**Author's Note:**

> Note: This is a post Series Two standalone fic. And there’s sex in it.
> 
> A huuugggee thanks to "madfatty" for the beta and all the helpful notes and comments.

The second time they have sex it’s in his room at his uncle’s in Leeds. They drove for hours to get there so they could pack up all his things and move him back home. She told her mum it’ll take half the time if they all go together (she may or may not have glossed over the fact that it’s just Finn and her that are going), he told his dad he’s not letting Rae out of his sight.

When they arrive it’s evening and way too late to start packing, so they decide to start fresh in the morning. Rae waits to be shown the guest bedroom, but Mr. Nelson laughs and says he doesn’t give a rat’s arse if they share a bed, he knows that’s what they’ll end up doing anyway, the second they’re sure he’s asleep. He leans closer to her and whispers, “and I sleep like the dead, me. Just a bit of an FYI there, for ya.” Then he laughs in an outrageous way at Rae blushing and Finn clearing his throat, and he’s gone down stairs.

Finn sits on the bed, his eyes follow her around the room, as she’s looking at every detail, checking every mark he’s left on this space in the time they were apart. There isn’t much. He never got to the point where he felt at home there, and actually he never really tried. Half his stuff is still in a packed suitcase under the bed (he didn’t tell her that when she suggested she help out). He watches Rae touch the few CD cases in a small pile on a bedside table, flip aimlessly through some magazines. It’s a strange sort of quiet, not quite right. There’s tension between them, something that slipped in with the realization about the sharing of the bed. They’ve had sex, seen each other naked, they should be over this, but they’re not. The ride over was loud and boisterous, with music blaring and playful arguments, Rae dancing and wiggling on the sit next to him and singing loudly out the window at passing cars and calling him a knobhead – just a big foreplay session for Finn, really. And now it’s like someone’s flipped the switch, turned the levels down and they’re at the other end, the other side of Rae, the one he’s never sure about.

So he stays on the bed, makes no sudden movements. Waits for the cues, in case she ever decides to give him some. She turns to him and laughs shyly. “This is strange.” She says, and Finn’s heart sinks.

“I’ll ask Jon to fix you the guest room, it’s not a problem.”

Rae eyebrows contort in confusion, then her eyes slip away from his. “Oh, okay,” she says. “Thanks”.

He gets up and walks over to where she’s standing by the window, his mind is all over the place. Is she disappointed? Pleased? He just doesn’t know. When she changes the subject, he’s even more confused. “Listen, are you… I mean, are we…” she takes a breath and shakes her head and there’s yet another shift in the mood. Finn is getting whiplash. “It’s just weird, I can’t see you at all in this room. I imagined, dunno, posters and tons of records, like your room back home. I mean, you didn’t hang anything up.”

“Yeah, I… didn’t get a chance to… emm…” should he explain how all his time in Leeds had been spent working and being miserable?

“– But wait, what have we here?” She walks around him, makes a bee line for the bed, where, next to the pillow, a small white piece of paper is taped to the wall.

“Shit. Rae.” He rushes to follow. “That’s nothing, don’t… look at that.”

But she does, she leans across the pillows and looks. Finn waits by the bed, his heart in his throat. She reaches and tears the tape from the wall, and stands next to him, her eyes glued to the white square in her hands. “What is it?” she asks, confused, showing it to him, as if he doesn’t know every line on it intimately. It’s a small page, torn out of a pocket-size notebook, fifteen thin blue lines crossing it, and at the top, one sentence, three words, scrawled in his angry, boyish handwriting. NO BABYLON ZOO.

“S’ nothing, it’s just a note, from that day. With the, you know.“

“Why do you have that? Why d’ya keep it?”

“Because, Rae.” He can feel his blush rising, feels himself starting to want to change the subject or start a fight, because finding the words is too bloody hard. But he doesn’t, he makes an effort, because running from saying things is where they fucked it up before. “I dunno. It’s… you. It reminds me of you. It’s from when I noticed you. Really noticed.”

“Oh, Finley.” She looks up at him, a shy but pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Didn’t I call you a wanker that time?”

“Prick.” Finn corrects emphatically.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I didn’t like that.” He smiles.

Rae shakes her head and looks at the paper again. “NO BABYLON ZOO. I love it. I think it’s a great slogan for our relationship.” She folds the paper. “If our relationship were a band, this paper would’ve been our album cover.” She says, putting the folded paper in her jeans pocket.

“Hey, that’s not yours!” he protests, trying to grab it. “I need that!”

She blocks his attempt, laughing. “No you don’t, because I’m here now.”

She looks at him and Finn’s not laughing and the temperature of the room changes.

He crushes his mouth to hers, his hands go around her to bring her closer. Rae pulls them both towards the bed, her hands are tangled in his shirt. “Don’t tell Jon about the room,” she pants between kisses, as he lowers them both to the bed. “No, yeah, I… won’t,” is what he maybe said, who can be sure at a time like this.

 

It’s always been this way; once he starts kissing her he can’t stop. Can’t tear his mouth away, even when his hands move up her body, even when he’s taking off clothes. Her T-shirt is bunched up at the neck, ready to be removed the moment they get a second apart, and just stays there. Finn finds her under the bra, finds a nipple, oh God, she makes amazing sounds into his mouth. Eventually she pulls away – she was always the stronger one – and he’s panting above her, staring as she shyly gets rid of the shirt, then the jeans, until she’s lying under him in only her black bra and white knickers.

Finn’s eyes want to devour this image, he wants to look and look and look, but he can see her hands move to her stomach, sort of hang there, causal-like, and he knows she isn’t comfortable yet, she’s not ready for his lusty stare. And that’s fine, ‘cause there’s time and he has patience and he’s not going to fuck it up again. He looks in her eyes and doesn’t shift his gaze.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Rae Earl?” He whispers. She shakes her head. No. Finn is hovering above her mouth, his hand on her naked thigh, desperate to kiss again, but he holds back. For her not to know how he sees her is unacceptable. “You are so beautiful, you’d come in the room and it would hurt to look at ya. But I couldn’t not look at ya. S’ like… it hurt more _not_ to look at ya.” Fuck. What a load of bollocks, why’d he say any of that? She’s got a look in her eyes, one of those he can’t decipher. See, this is what happens when he tries to tell her things. She moves and he knows he fucked up somehow, she’s leaving the bed, he’s never gonna get to kiss her again –

But she doesn’t leave. Instead, she closes the gap between their mouths and kisses him. He gasps. It’s so rare for her to initiate a kiss, it almost never happens. Finn’s heart is going wild. He wants badly to press into her, to take and take, but he also wants to know what it feels like to let Rae Earl drive, to see what happens when she’s in charge of the kiss, and he hangs back. But he’s not prepared, he’s not at all prepared for this. When she starts his eyes are open, he wants to see as much as he can, but then her lips slide across his mouth, her tongue slides inside, a single slow flick to the roof of his mouth, and Finn’s eyes flutter closed and his heart is pounding and his entire body is electric. Jesus.

She keeps going, slow crazy motions. She kisses him like she’s worshipping at the altar of his mouth and he can hear himself moaning, a very long way away. He moves back as she presses forward, and he’s on his back and it’s a good thing too, because he’s a mess of nerves and longing and he’s afraid to make a move and have this end. So now she’s above him and her breasts in that black lacy bra are pressed against him and her tongue is still flicking slow and wet inside him, that’s what it feels like, as if she’s reached inside him and grabbed his heart, his brain, his cock, and she’s pulling everything, all of him, in slow and maddening movements into her, and there’s absolutely nothing he can do even if he wanted to and if this is what it’s like when you let Rae Earl drive then, fuck, he’s never making another move ever again.

 

Twenty minutes after they’re done, he’s lying there worried, and his heart is still pounding hard against his ribcage. That can’t be healthy. Rae is asleep, curled up against his side, still somehow in that fucking bra. His arm is around her, holding, making sure she doesn’t disappear, he supposes. There were moments there he wasn’t sure she was even real.

There was a moment there, when he was moving over her, inside her, and she was all around him, still calling the shots, still keeping him on that maddening, achingly sweet, slow rhythm, and she moved her lips to his ear, and panted, “I have to… tell you something… Finn.” Her fingers moved in his hair, tiny scratches at the back of his skull that zinged all the way down his spine to the place where their bodies were joined, and he was in no state to register anything she might have wanted to tell him, when his entire world was made of hazy wet pleasure, but the words appeared, a whisper in his ear, and he couldn’t have missed them because he’d been waiting for them for so long. “I love you.”

 

Finn wishes he could sleep, but he’s wide awake and still wired. His body is still pulsing from a mind melting orgasm from a half hour ago, and when he looks at the girl in his bed his breath still catches at her beauty. He wants a smoke, badly, but there’s no way he’s moving. So he stares at the ceiling, his right hand across his chest, feeling the insane beating of his heart. He could be having a panic attack. He sure feels panicked.

What _was_ that? It wasn’t like that the first time. It wasn’t like that, ever. This is it, he realizes. What they talk about. What they sing about. Jesus Christ, all those clichés. He’s in them now. He’s so fucked. He gave her all the power. He was a mess before but now… What hope is there for a lovesick boy like him? Next time she leaves him, there’s no coming back from that. Last time he at least could go out and pull and have loads of sex with other girls. But if it’s never going to be like this again… Jesus, what’s the point?

“Finn?” her voice is tiny, barely a whisper, a puff of air against his arm.

“Yeah?”

“Emmm… this is lame but, I have to ask. Are we together now?”

“What?” Surely he’s dreaming this. He looks at her, brows practically joint together, “Are you daft?”

She doesn’t look at him, but presses on. “I know we’re friends again, and we did… all that... but,” she takes a deep breath and he can hear the tears in her voice, realizes how much she’s struggling, and knows that this isn’t a dream, this is the reality of loving Rae Earl. “But… are you my boyfriend, or… what?”

“Am I your boyfriend?” This girl will be the death of him. She can make love to him until his soul bleeds out of his ears, and still believe that he’s the one doing her a favour. He turns to her and puts his face right up close to hers, so there is no misunderstandings of his intentions. “No, Rae I’m not your boyfriend. I’m your bloody husband, okay?”

She stares for a second, and Finn realizes she still might think he’s being sarcastic. But then she bursts out laughing, her hand goes up to cup his skull and bring him closer, her smile is the sweetest thing, and his heart is never going to get to a normal person’s rate, is it?

“You’re my husband?”

“Yes, and you’re my wife. My crazy, silly, beautiful, sexy, dickhead of a wife.”

“You know,” She looks up as if trying to remember, “I can’t quite remember marrying you.”

“Trust me, you did.”

“Was it nice?”

“It was beautiful. You were beautiful. You wore a white dress and red converse.”

“Nice.”

“Oasis played at the reception.”

“Aw, now I’m sorry I missed it.”

“Your mom cried, Chloe fought people for the bouquet, and – “

“And you made us a pair of matching rings, engraved inside.”

“Yep, sure did. Remind me, what did I so cleverly engrave on there?”

Rae rolls her eyes. “Duh! Our wedding vows! _NO BABYLON ZOO_.”

 

THE END

 


End file.
